


knocked me out and bit my lips (guess that's just the way i like it)

by questionsthemselves



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Kraglin generally likes being underestimated, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Surpriseeeeeee, Yondu doesn't think Kraglin can dom him, but not by Yondu, dom!kraglin, sub!yondu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionsthemselves/pseuds/questionsthemselves
Summary: Then Kraglin’s grabbing the wrist Yondu’s raised, looks at it idly for a minute, then faster than a striking serpent he has it pinned to the bed. Yondu blinks at him, stupidly. He starts to struggle on instinct but then Kraglin says, “No,” voice deeper than Yondu knew it could go and he freezes, almost dizzy with how that tone taps into something primal and yielding, deep in his mind.When he stays there, blinking confusedly up, Kraglin says, “Good, just let me, like that.”In which Yondu doesn't really think Kraglin can dom his way out of a wet paper bag. Spoiler alert, he's wrong.





	1. you knocked me out

**Author's Note:**

> an anon had this as a prompt for Write_Like_An-American, they had too many projects and declined so I stole it oops i'd apologize but i wouldn't really mean it, it grabbed me and wouldn't let go, so there
> 
> EDIT: first chapter fixed up pretty and added the second one :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s another sweet fog of a night on Contraxia, and Yondu’s just eased into that lovely blurred stage of drunk where the world doesn’t press in so sharp and biting against his skin. The drinks have been free, flowing readily from some muscled blue Autocron at the bar Yondu's been steadily flirting with. It’s been a while since he’s had the chance to fool around from someone not working off a pre-set algorithm and he’s hoping to end the night in a warm watercolor wash of flushed skin and wanting.

It’s another sweet fog of a night on Contraxia, and Yondu’s just eased into that lovely blurred stage of drunk where the world doesn’t press in so sharp and biting against his skin. The drinks have been free, flowing readily from some muscled blue Autocron at the bar Yondu's been steadily flirting with. It’s been a while since he’s had the chance to fool around from someone not working off a pre-set algorithm and he’s hoping to end the night in a warm watercolor wash of flushed skin and wanting.

After all tonight is Yondu’s anniversary - two years since he’s taken charge of the _Eclector,_ two years since he’s had his own command. The only damper to his celebration tonight is the gangly Xandarian at his side, only eight months his new first mate.He seems to have picked tonight of all nights to be taking his duties rather more seriously than he ought to, in Yondu’s opinion, and is rather more sober too.

He hasn’t moved from Yondu’s side, sulking and broody on the stool next to him at the bar. Yondu pointedly ignores him - he has no idea what’s got a stick up Kraglin’s ass tonight but Yondu’s not gonna let him ruin a good time because Kraglin’s got it in his head to act like a jealous lover.

Besides, it’s not like Kraglin’s really gonna go for him. Yondu prides himself on knowing everything about everyone under his command, and while Kraglin has slid perfectly into place as his second, he’s not the kind that’s looking for someone like Yondu, would know what to do with him if he had him.

The Autocron’s been getting bolder as Yondu gets drunker, reaches out to ghost a big hand lightly down Yondu’s shoulder blade and lean in to husk out, “Gonna ditch yer guard dog, come have some fun with me?” 

Yondu tries not to look to eager as he nods, surreptitiously nudging Kraglin away with his leg. It’s been too long since he’s had a good fuck, and he’s not about to let his sullen first mate spoil it now for him. 

Kraglin however, doesn’t seem to get the message. He firms his nubbin of a chin, narrows those ridiculous huge blue eyes, and inches himself in stubbornly closer to Yondu. 

“Aw,” the Autocron drawls out, “Looks like someone’s staking his claim on ya, guess I should prolly find someone more available.” 

“Whaaaa, no,” Yondu pouts, thumbs teasingly at musclebound blue arm in front of him, tilting his chin up as his face morphs into a leer. “Don’ no one gotta claim on me.” 

The Autocron raises a skeptical brow. “Uh huh, then what’s that twig doin’ acting like someone’s tryin’ t’steal you out from under him?” 

“Not his,” Yondu slurs, ignores the subvocal growl he can hear Kraglin making, muddily wondering what that nonsense is all about. Then Kraglin’s leaning in close sliding a possessive hand onto Yondu’s thigh as Yondu flops his head to squint down at it in confusion. 

“Really,” the Autocron says flatly, “Cause for someone who don’t have a claim on ya, he’s pretty het up. Looks like he wants t’turn ya over his knee for flirtin’ with another man.” 

“Please,” Yondu scoffs as his lips turn up in a grin, “Krags couldn’t top his way outta a wet paper bag.”

For some reason the picture that’s blinked into existence in his mind of Kraglin flailing from in a limp, soggy sack is _fuckin’ hilarious_ and Yondu starts guffawinguncontrollably, elbowing in the general direction of Kraglin. 

But when he rolls drunk-blurred eyes around, his first mate’s face is hard as a steel, eyes colder than the ice crusted on the windowsills outside. 

“Bout time we was gettin’ back t’the ship,” Kraglin grates out stiff and monotone, “Sir.” 

Yondu tries to make a ‘pfffft’ sound, but it comes out mostly as spit bubbles, which are almost as amusing as the images in his thoughts. Then Kraglin’s hosting his arm over his shoulder, pulling him up off the bar stool and hauling him out the door as everything wavers off into darkness.

 

When he comes to, he’s been tucked demurely into his own bed back on the _Eclector_. Yondu groans, flops an arm over his face and contemplates how much effort it will take to eel himself out of bed and closer to the blessed pot of brew just waiting on his desk. 

There’s a hammer pounding at his temples, and a sour tackiness in his mouth that makes him want to sick up. Must have been a good night, to warrant this kind of aftermath. It isn’t more than a minute before there’s the whoosh of his automatic door sliding open and he can hear someone that must be Kraglin creak his way in. 

“Kraaaaag,” Yondu’s throat is dry and rough as sandpaper and he can’t quite eke out the entirety of his name as he groaningly pushes up onto his elbows. 

“Morning, sir.” 

Kraglin makes the greeting seem a lot more darkly grudging than usual, and Yondu’s still alcohol-soused mind can’t quite parse why that might be. 

Before he can gather the brain cells to think more on it more though, Kraglin’s shoving a cup of hot, sweet brew into one hand, and a steaming slice of protein cake in the other and Yondu’s shoveling it in after a bare grudging whisper of gratitude. 

“Y’r th’best,” he grunts out around the food in his mouth. Kraglin doesn’t say anything back though, just stands there by the bed looking down at him. 

When he doesn’t seem inclined to move on, start about doing anything else, Yondu peer quizzically up at him, 

“Have fun celebratin’?” he prompts, hoping it’ll make Kraglin spill whatever’s got him in a snit.

Yondu has a vague recollection that Kraglin left with him, not with some pretty little thing but if Yondu apparently didn’t have the chance to get any celebratory nookie-nookie maybe at least his first mate did. There’s a sullen silence, and then Yondu downs the last of his drink, pokes the mug into Kraglin’s chest.

“Well, c’mon then, s’a good night, huh?” 

“Did you mean it, all what you said, sir,” Kraglin's bony shoulders are hiked high and Yondu wrinkles his nose, scrubs at his eyes with one hands. The rush of the brew is starting to clear his thoughts, but it’s not bringing any particular recollection to his mind on what Kraglin’s referring to with that statement. Much less why he’s bringing it up first thing in the morning.

“Always mean what I say.” Brew and protein cake both settling comfortingly into his belly, Yondu collapses back down onto his pillow. He yawns again, then cocks a brow up at Kraglin. “…What’d I say, then?” 

Kraglin bites hard at his lip with a sharp metal capped incisor, shifts a little from foot to foot. When Yondu lets his features twist darker into a scowl, he says low and resentful, “Said I couldn’t top nobody.” 

Really? That’s what’s got Kraglin in a mood this morning? Some throwaway statement about his perceived prowess? Yondu rolls his eyes, ignores the way the movement feels like rubbing them in gravel. 

“Please, ain’t making a commentary on your competence, didn’t mean nothing by it,” Yondu pauses, then can’t resist the urge to lift a hand and poke a taunting finger up at him, “don’t mean you can top for shit though.”

Kraglin stiffens, narrows his eyes and stares at him searchingly but Yondu grins, doesn’t retract his hand and doesn’t back down.

Then Kraglin’s grabbing the wrist Yondu’s raised, looks at it idly for a minute, then faster than a striking serpent he has it pinned to the bed. Yondu blinks at him, stupidly. He starts to struggle on instinct but then Kraglin says, “ _No_ ,” voice deeper than Yondu knew it could go and he freezes, almost dizzy with how that tone taps into something primal and yielding, deep in his mind. 

When he stays there, blinking confusedly up, Kraglin says low, “Good, just let me, like that,” and before Yondu can stop himself he hears himself making a high pitched little noise that’s almost a whine. His face is going hot with something like embarrassment but then he looks up at Kraglin, the fierce expression on his face, and it brushes the shame into a distant thought. Letting the tension melt out of his muscles, he unclenches his fist, waits. 

“Yeah, that’s better, huh?” Kraglin soothes out, lips curling into a sharp, satisfied grin, “Gonna do what I want, aren’t you, gonna be good for me.” 


	2. i can never be the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu’s head is spinning, something heady flushing up his spine and clouding him over. Kraglin’s face, the things he’s saying, something deep in Yondu’s hindbrain wants to bend malleable to it but…  
> Sucking the corner of his upper lip in his bites at it with a metal-tipped incisor, he focuses on the sharp pain enough he can pull himself back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY HERE, first chapter has also been heavily edited. the last time I drunk-post fic, I swear. >.>

Yondu’s head is spinning, something heady flushing up his spine and clouding him over. Kraglin’s face, the things he’s saying, something deep in Yondu’s hindbrain wants to bend malleable to it but…

Sucking the corner of his upper lip in he bites at it with a metal-tipped incisor, focuses on the sharp pain enough he can pull himself back in. Just because Kraglin can croon all low and sweet like that, trip that weird switch in his head, doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just been a while, that’s all, since Yondu’s had a good romp – so if it’s a little fun and stress relief Kraglin’s wanting, well, it’s not like Yondu couldn’t use the same.

“Oh, I c’n definitely make things good for you,” he purrs out, takes his free hand and lets a finger trail down Kraglin’s grungy cotton-covered chest. “How about you lie back and lemme show you?” 

Letting his eyes hood and a smirk tease at the edge of his lips, he moves his hand to tug meaningfully at Kraglin’s shirt. Better get this back on familiar ground. 

Kraglin though, doesn’t budge. His face goes almost thoughtful as he stares down at Yondu, then he reaches to grab the hand Yondu has on his side. Lacing their fingers together he moves deliberately to pin that one down too.

Yondu’s hands may not be the deadliest part of him, but something about the way he’s held exposed cracks him open, raw and tender. He swallows wetly as Kragin swings a leg over to brace himself on all fours over him.

“You want me t’stop, really stop,” Kraglin locks eyes with him, “You say stop.” 

When Yondu just purses his lips, he leans down closer and repeats, “You say stop, yeah?” 

“Yes,” Yondu bites out sullenly, then starts squirming fretfully under Kraglin. He doesn’t understand this, isn’t sure he likes it. It’ll be easier if he can back in familiar territory so he hooks a leg around Kraglin and tries to flip him **.** Once he’s got his mouth on Kraglin’s dick he’ll quit this whole business of talking and making Yondu go all strange and wobbly. Besides, once Kraglin feels him pushing back, he’ll back down. This is probably just his ridiculous way of getting jealous over that Autocron. 

Like he predicted **,** Kraglin doesn’t even bother trying to wrestle against him, just lets them both roll to the side. Yondu’s stomach twists in something that’s _definitely_ triumph, but then Kraglin’s eeling under his arm and up onto Yondu’s back, dropping down to pin him on his belly. 

Sharp teeth latch on to the nape of his neck and Yondu startles, instinctively tries to head butt him but Kraglin just rolls with the movement, doesn’t let go. He reaches down slowly, deliberately, to weave his fingers through Yondu’s and plant them by his head again. 

Kraglin's pressed hard and angular against the length of him, rutting forward slow, rolling his hips like he’s already rooted deep. He lets go of Yondu’s neck to husk into his ear, “This what you wanted, what you was trying to get me t’do there, hold you down and make you take what I give you?” 

It punches a gasp out of Yondu, high and shocky, as his back arches into Kraglin before he can stop himself. Kraglin snarls, buries his head into Yondu’s neck, hips stilling as he rasps, “Gonna strip you down first, get you all wet and open for me.” 

He lets go of Yondu to worm a hand underneath him, long fingers pushing at the buckles, rucking his shirt up his back with the other. 

Between the two of them they manage to shuck their clothes, pushing them haphazardly towards the foot of the bed. The whole time Kraglin never moves off him, never stops touching him. Every touch, every spot they connect lights up something in Yondu’s head, waving over and pulling him under.

He’s jerked abruptly out of it when Kraglin starts mouthing down his spine, lighting up all those oversensitive ends where his tahlei used to be. His muscles start locking tight, shoulder blades pulling together. He tells himself it’s not a big deal, shouldn’t be letting some stupid ghost of a memory have a hold like this, but somehow Kraglin must sense it because he’s stopping, pulling back.

“Not there?” he asks softly.

“Don’t need none of that gooey, kissey bullshit, get t’the good stuff” Yondu blusters, forcing his muscles to loosen but somehow Kraglin still knows anyways, voice set as he says, "I'll stop."

Yondu can feel his cheeks flushing hot and he mumbles wordlessly into the blanket. 

How does Kraglin always _do_ that?

Then Kraglin’s pushed himself lower, wraps his arms around Yondu’s legs and pulls them apart to bury his face between them. Yondu inhales, holds it, waiting for the feeling of Kraglin’s mouth on him. It comes, but not where he wants it. Kraglin’s pressing soft wet kisses to the tender insides of Yondu’s thighs letting his hands knead at the plush and muscle of his ass, traces around the edges of his hole, over and over.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Yondu writhes against the sheets, tries to push up to get Kraglin’s mouth where he wants it, but Kraglin just pulls back, says unyielding, “ _No._ Let me.”

Yondu bats weakly back at Kraglin’s head, keeps squirming as Kraglin continues to mouth and tease everywhere except where Yondu really wants him. 

Finally though, Yondu runs out of energy, sinks his hips back down into the bed with a frustrated little moan. 

“There, that’s it, there y’go,” Kraglin soothes, dips his head breathes hot on Yondu’s hole, “Just relax and _let me_.”

Yondu shudders, but doesn’t tense up or push into it and Kraglin drags his mouth slowly up, starts to tongue him wet and firm. 

It’s been forever since anyone’s done this to him, and the feel of it, the thought that it’s _Kraglin_ , has everything washing white and hazy. Yondu can hear himself gasping out helpless little noises every time Kraglin’s tongue fucks inside him, but he can’t gather the will to make himself stop. 

As his voice starts to pitch higher Kraglin rubs his stubble against that sensitive skin of his inner thigh, rasps out “Gorgeous,” rough and low like it’s being pulled from him. Vaguely Yondu can hear the click of a cap, and he’s being opened up with one finger, and then two, working him loose, and everything’s blurred in a fog of _want_ and _yes_ and _Kraglin,_ and he’s so close…

Then Yondu can feel him pulling away and he makes a wordless sound of protest, ekes out “Fuckin– evil _bastard–“_ hands clawing weakly into the bedsheets. He jerks forward as he feel the sudden sting of Kraglin’s hand on his ass, once, twice.

“None of that,” he’s rubbing over the now sensitive patch of skin, sliding his hand up Yondu’s side, “now you’re all loose and sweet for me, gonna fuck you full till you’re _begging._ ” 

Kraglin drapes himself over Yondu, covering and surrounding him until all Yondu can feel is Kraglin’s skin against his own, hot breath against his neck. Shifting his hips, Kraglin’s lining up, sliding in, and Yondu almost sobbing with the slow stretch of it, how good it feels to be fucked, deep and full.

Kraglin moves like he’s made to be there, every stroke like a wave pulling Yondu under, turning him loose and floating, the feel of Kraglin’s weight the only thing holding him down. He’s babbling, he can hear it, mixing Kraglin’s name with clicks, and pleas, and punched out hiccuping gasps, but he doesn’t care, can’t focus on anything but Kraglin, his low humming growl reverberating through him, the way he’s making him feel. 

A new pain sparks like a star on Yondu’s neck, the sharp points of Kraglin’s teeth worrying into his skin, marking _mine_ in blue-black onto his body. Then everything around Yondu's cresting, breaking, spilling him shivering and pleasure-limp down the other side and he can hear Kraglin choke out his name as he lets go of skin to bury his face in the crook of Yondu’s neck. 

After, he’s still floating in warmth and daze, tethered to Kraglin who hasn’t stopped touching him, even as he’s pulled away. There’s rough edge of blanket wiping them dry, and then Kraglin’s snugged up against his back, tangling their legs together and arm wrapped around his waist holding him close. 

He’s breathing hot against Yondu’s neck, mumbling sweet tender things into Yondu’s skin, soothing his thumb rhythmically against his side as the world starts to filter hazily back in. Part of Yondu tells him he needs to say something, do something, but a bigger part craves this like he didn’t know he could and he lets himself drift, safe with Kraglin wrapped around him.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are lovvvvvvvveeeeeeee please leave them <3


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